| |
A week passed since I met Lord Kwan’s bride-to-be, and he still hadn’t returned. I started to get worried until Syaoran laughed, saying he’d gone to meet with his family, and sent word he would be away for the Mokryon celebration. He laughed again when I asked what that was. Juneun seemed to have special days of their own. Festivities were quiet during the solstice, but perhaps that was simply the way of things for a Juneun. Whatever Mokryon was, it must’ve been important.
Syaoran made a quiet complaint on the matter, saying how it was a shame Lord Kwan didn’t host such an event himself. And, stupidly, I asked why his future bride didn’t just host it in his stead. The look of pure confusion marred Syaoran’s face. I explained. He laughed.
“So, Feng is back. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that,” said Syaoran, relaxed as he leaned back into the shade of the veranda. “But, no, she’s not the master’s intended.”
“But, she said—”
“She dreams of it, sure. But she runs away with a broken heart every time she tries to persuade him to make a proposal and speak to her father. She’s been infatuated with him ever since he came south. More than a century, certainly, but I don’t think it’s been two just yet.”
Two hundred years of unrequited love. I started to think on it. And here I was, a human at sixteen who cried over a barrage of naïve questions that shouldn’t have bothered me to begin with.
“She probably heard about Lord Kwan actually joining a celebration and figured he might be in a good mood again.”
Good mood again? It reminded me. “The night I came here, Gi said that Lord Kwan was in a foul mood for the last fifty years.”
That bit of information surprised Syaoran; or, at least, his face reflected it before bunching his brow in a silent apology. “Well, he’s not wrong. But it’s more of a private matter.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t quite understand.
Into the afternoon, as I walked the grounds, I pondered on the strange things I’d learned. What was so personal about Lord Kwan that everyone knew but kept from me? Maybe it was the fact that I was human, and still somehow untrustworthy. The idea bothered me as I walked the farthest garden. What would justify the prejudice? I was human, but surely that didn’t make me dishonest by default.
I didn’t have time to be angry about it for long. A hand came over my mouth and an arm across my torso. I struggled in my moment of panic, becoming still when I recognized the voice whispering my name. I looked up, slowly freed from my restraint.
Raeden.
“It’s really you, isn’t it? You’re alive.” He pulled me into an embrace.
I hugged my brother back, burying my face in his shirt and whispering. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to come,” said Raeden, slow to let go again. “I couldn’t stand it.”
“How did you get in? Did the guards let you pass?”
He shook his head. “I walked the outer wall and found a place I could climb over first. And did the same to get in here.”
I went pale. I didn’t want to know what might happen if we were spotted. I knew he worried, but I had to protect him. I had to protect my brother. “It’s not safe to talk here.” I took his hand, dragging him behind the shrubs and keeping low until we got to the secret door.
Safe on the other side, I exhaled my relief.
“How did you know that door was there, and not sealed?”
“A friend showed me.” I didn’t stop to explain, fearful someone would hear us. I took my brother’s hand again, leading him further from the inner wall.
When at last we were far enough away, hidden under the protective boughs of the trees between the walls, I gave him another hug.
“Hisa,” cooed Raeden, squeezing me close. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”
I pushed off gently, shaking my head to stop his rapid questions. “I’m fine. I’m working off the five years I have to stay. And I’ll be allowed to go home when the time is up. He’s, he’s really not a bad person. He protects the mountain and all the surrounding villages. And he—”
Raeden looked me up and down as I rambled on, quirking a brow and twisting his face. “Has he touched you?”
“What?” I blinked. Then I looked to my clothes, searching for some clue to what my brother meant.
“The way...” He hesitated, eyes darting down and teeth gnawing at the corner of his lower lip. “The way a man touches a woman. A husband and wife.”
When I understood, I felt my face flush with a deep heat. I shook my head, quick, tucking into my shoulders. “It’s not like that.”
“Then come with me. I can show you where I climbed over.”
He took my hand, but I pulled away. Confusion consumed his face.
“I made a promise,” I said. “To take Hisato’s place. If I leave...”
An understanding, and sadness, claimed his expression.
We sat there in the shade, talking. Raeden was the better hunter among my brothers. And the skills worked for him to come so far to see me. A brave and noble effort, I thought.
I told him of my time here, about Syaoran and Gi, about learning to write. I didn’t mention the night Lord Kwan returned in a blind fury, or his request my attending him on every return. I didn’t want to trouble my brother with any potential fears.
Then he told me about the heartbreak of our family. The day a letter arrived, with none of them able to understand and under the assumption it was a notice of my death. And the mention by one of the women in the village who’d climbed up in search of more fruits finding me by the river. He said she’d run home claiming to have seen my ghost—They drowned her! They drowned her! And she’s haunting the very spot of her death! It was terrible of me, but I laughed at the retelling.
Life at the village had gone on, trying to move through the mourning. Fumei came every other day at least to stand in for me, often walking to our house with Kenta. Kyu had made a proposal to her, but she refused him. It warmed my heart to know I was right about my friend, that she had taken the initiative to look after my family. And, though I knew I was selfish for it, I was happy to hear she refused the boy I secretly loved.
More boar had come into the village this past year, trying to break into people’s homes and storerooms during the winter. Raeden sounded proud as he recounted how he’d only missed once in all the arrows he let fly. Nine boars. In our worst year with the beasts before, it was five. But they made for good meat, enough to smoke and preserve to last everyone through winter.
“I was following the trail of another one when I found the upper river,” said Raeden. “Then all I could think about was Nami terrified that she’d seen your ghost. One of the younger girls said she saw someone that looked like you walking up from the river, but no one believed her. Some of the children talked about the rumor that you were still alive. But when we asked where they’d heard it, they just said the nice man told us.”
“It might’ve been Gi,” I said. “I asked him to make sure the message was brought to our home. He said he would try.”
“Maybe. But I never saw anyone.”
That gave me cause to wonder.
“Either way, I’m glad the rumor is true. We miss you, Hisa. Home isn’t the same. But at least now, we know you’ll come back.”
I nodded, smiling to assure my brother. “I swore to work hard so they don’t have any reason to keep me longer.”
He smiled back, letting it fall as he seemed to realize something. “Wait a minute. Is your hair growing back faster than mine?”
“Huh?” I slid my fingers through my short length of hair, trying to gauge the length and compare.
He pointed, his eyes wide for a second. “It is! That’s hardly fair.”
I chuckled. “Maybe. I’ve been eating well.”
He took a moment, pretending to consider. “Maybe I should get arrested by the Juneun too.”
“Don’t you dare,” I scolded. “Father relies on all of you, and so does the village. Did you forget how many boars came through this year alone?”
He snickered. “I was the one that told you.”
I softened my voice, letting my fingers fuss with the skirt of my dress. “You shouldn’t joke like that.”
“Okay.” He reclined, showing me a smile that meant he was quietly sorry.
“I know you’re one of the best hunters in the village. But I still would get worried every time you went into the mountain—even just to set or check traps.”
“I know.”
We shared a sigh, looking at the golden shine on the grass in the afternoon sun.
“Hisa,” said Raeden, his voice taking a melancholic tone. “It’s my fault you’re here.”
“What do you mean?” I shifted my gaze to him, seeing a serious expression on his face.
“That day.” He put his arms around his knees. “Hisato and I had been getting on each other. I made the decision to separate. I went to check on the traps, and sent him on a false trail. We both knew the tracks weren’t fresh, but I pushed him to go anyway.”
I placed my hand to his arm. “You couldn’t have predicted things. When I made my plea to the spirits here, I accepted it. Then I was told I’d work twenty years. Then only five. They’ll get tired of me quick and probably send me away before then.” I brightened my smile, coaxing him to copy.
His own smile was soft, filled with quiet apology. “You work as a maid here. His servant and his—” he stopped himself, looking again at my dress and furrowing his brow. “Hisa, you can tell me. If he has touched you.”
Puzzled, it took me a second to understand the desperate anger in his voice. “He hasn’t. Besides, there’s a beautiful Juneun who’s in love with him and has been for centuries. If he was going to do that to anyone—”
“But, Hisa, it’s different with lords and servants. I’ve heard the tales from the merchants. How they take their servant girls into their bed and won’t marry them.”
I gave a stern look to my brother. “That won’t happen. He’s never done that to any of the servant girls here, and they’re more pretty and have been here for years.”
He gave me a sorry look, and pulled me into a hug. “Come home.”
My hands held onto him, like we were children all over again. “I will. The moment I’m released, I’ll dash straight home.”
I saw he wanted to argue.
“I don’t want to risk any of you getting in trouble if I run away.”
We lingered a little while longer, a part of us not wanting to be separated again. I’d told him everything I wanted to say, and led him to the next secret door to get out. We hugged one last time, saying I love you. He crawled through, being much taller than me, and I closed the door behind him.
My heart felt light.
I returned to my room, wanting a private space to replay the time shared with my brother that day, over and over. However, I came back to an odd sight. Syaoran was in my room, caught searching around.
He gave an apologetic expression. “It looks bad, but I promise it’s not.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, meek. I didn’t want to reveal anything with a guilty tone. More than that, I didn’t want to make accusations and get myself in any trouble.
“I... lost something. Something important to me,” his fox ears flopped down, and his eyes looked away from me. “I was retracing my steps, but... I don’t think it’s here.”
“What is it you lost?” I set my things down, tying up my sleeves to help in the search.
He shook his head, holding up a palm. “It’s not something a human should touch. In any case, it’s not here.”
“Couldn’t we ask Yua or anyone else to help?”
He went rigid for a second, his fox ears pointing up. “I don’t want to get anyone involved. It’s—” his eyes darted away, and his jaw locked on itself in the same instant. “It’s something that might help me get to my sister.”
“If it’s that kind of important, shouldn’t we get the others to help look for it? Or at least tell Lord Kwan?” I folded my hands over my chest.
“No! No, no,” alarm hung heavy in his voice. “With the others. My sister is a fox spirit. They wouldn’t understand.”
“Lord Kwan would—”
He shook his head. “It’s my sister. I need to keep her safe. Protect her however I can. I’d do anything. And Lord Kwan would try to talk me out of it if he knew. You understand, right?”
I did understand. Of course I did! And it was why I wanted to help him all the more. With a nod, I tried some other way to see if I could be useful to my friend. “Humans shouldn’t touch it. But then tell me what it looks like. If I do see it, I can—”
He gave a forced chuckle, massaging his sinus. “I appreciate the thought. Really, I do.” A sad smile, and my heart was pained for him. “But I—”
A thunderous roar shook the house. We both lost our balance. Syaoran falling into a kneel, and me to all fours. Lord Kwan was back, and not himself.
Syaoran got to his feet, quick to take action. “Stay here, where it’s safe.”
“But Lord Kwan said—”
“I think this makes for an exception, Hisa,” scolded Syaoran. He didn’t stop in his stride, hurrying to contain his master’s fury.
I twisted to sit on my thigh, listening to the ongoing chaos. That terrifying roar recurred, shaking the delicate things placed on the vanity and table of my little room. Even my bunny trembled and fell over.
My bunny. The only companion I had in those first weeks here, and who hid away Tori to keep him safe while I was away.
No. I gave my word to Lord Kwan’s request. Even in this state, I wouldn’t let him be alone on his return. I would be his faithful companion for the years I had to be here.
I gathered my courage, taking in a breath to fasten my resolve with a prayer, and got to my feet. I could feel the unsteadiness in my bones with every small step, taking all my will to walk to the room with the heavy doors and not run to hide in some corner.
Out to the veranda. To the other side of the house. Up the stairs. My steps were heavy, begging me to reconsider. It felt harder to move my legs as the heavy doors came into view. But I walked on, keeping a silent prayer in my heart.
They were pulling his chains taught when I arrived, about to close the doors. Syaoran noticed my approach, calling for me to go back, that it was dangerous.
I held on to my courage, muttering my prayer before answering him. “Lord Kwan commanded that I stay in his company on his return.”
There were objections by the men, some of them having faced a strike of blind fury.
“I know he said that,” said Syaoran. “But he’s not himself. Whatever arrangement—”
“He is my master and I am his servant,” I said, firming my voice and raising it to a shout. “He bid I do this task, no matter, and that is what I will do.” In that moment, I hardly recognized myself. I was shouting at the spirits, at a Juneun. “If this is my labor to get me home, then I will complete it the best that I can. And I won’t be delayed from what will free me to go home.” I spoke with as much eloquence as I could imitate. I wasn’t a lady, but maybe presenting like one would garner some level of authority in this circumstance.
Syaoran frowned, protesting again. I ignored, taking a step forward. One of the men made to grab me and I pulled away.
“I’m not staying any longer than I have to. So I will do as the master commands me to.” I gave my most severe scowl. Though, I probably didn’t look at all threatening, never mind enough to be taken seriously.
“Hisa,” cooed Syaoran, reaching for my hand.
I resisted. He was my friend here in the house, but I resisted all the same. “He won’t hurt me. And if he does... I’m only a prisoner. It’s sheer luck that I wasn’t executed that following morning as planned.”
He still argued. I shook my head.
“I can handle it. I did once before.”
He hesitated, reluctant to leave until I leered at him enough to show I wouldn’t move. It hurt to do so. I knew he was only trying to protect me. I was trying to do the same, though I hadn’t the words to explain it.
When the doors closed, I looked back to Lord Kwan. He thrashed in place, snarling. Those stripes returned on his face, his arms. His hair unbound and wild, he didn’t resemble the ethereal lord I met the year before. Hands clawed again, and that feral look in his eyes, I saw it all far more clearly in the daylight. He really did look like a tiger that’d been cornered; or, how I imagine it’d look. He was still mostly a man, fighting against an inner beast for control of his senses, for his body.
I smiled softly. Feet planted, I gave a polite bow, exactly as I’d practiced over the months. “Welcome home, Lord Kwan.” Then I sat myself down comfortably and spoke to him.
I talked about the spring. What trees I thought might still be blossoming, which ones might already start bearing fruit. About the planting in the fields and the harvesting of the tea. I talked at length how we prepared the leaves to send out as offerings and for the taxes. I explained that every girl would have a walking stick with her to poke ahead in case of snakes. Then I reminisced on Fumei, how she would sing the first days of picking tea leaves.
I quietly sang, though I knew it wasn’t as pretty as when my friend did it. In the fields, we’d sing together. One of the older girls, Yi, was the best singer in our village. Though, I supposed she should be called a woman since she was married last summer. I talked about the wedding we all put together for them, how her sisters made her a beautiful dress for the day. I remember my hands were red from staining chicken feathers with berry juice. We hung them up around their houses to keep away any malevolent spirits, and set citrus leaves to smolder by the doors and windows for the same reason.
His snorting breath slowed as midnight crept closer. I’d talked from the late afternoon and into the night, pacing myself. He thrashed now and again, growls and roars stifled by the chain that gaged him. Those grew fewer as well.
I don’t know when I dozed off, or for how long. I woke to the raspy call of my name.
“Hisa.”
I sat myself up, prompt, rubbing my eyes free of sleep. “Yes, my lord?”
“Unbind me.”
My brain failed to understand, to obey. “My lord?”
“I am myself. And I am tired.” He kept his eyes shut, but everything about him appeared subdued compared to his arrival.
I got to my feet, pinching my cheeks to better wake me. If I wasn’t half-dazed, I would have thought to ask a guardsman to help. A small part of my mind that was awake and rallying, the rest of me began to hope this would reduce my time here. If staying by accident earned me a room and clothes that better fit me, staying deliberately surely brought me closer to going home.
I went to where the chains were anchored, loosening them. He slumped forward with the new slack. I couldn’t quite figure out how to undo them from that end in the dark. Frustrated, I shuffled over to untether his arms at the source. As I worked the binding, I could see him straining to stand, and hurried my effort.
One wrist freed, and the other after—though it was more stubborn to pull loose. I reached to guide him as he took his first step, though his strength gave out in that moment. My reflex was to catch him, as though he were a child that’d slipped. I went down with a sharp shriek, Lord Kwan collapsed on top of me. He was heavy. Crushing me.
A pained breath, and a groan, he raised himself enough to free me. Were I thinking properly, I should have gone to the door for help. Instead, I stupidly tried to help him to his feet on my own.
My shriek didn’t go unnoticed. The doors opened, with six guardsmen at the ready. It must’ve been a ridiculous sight, since they stopped to raise a brow and stare.
Slow, my mind formed the words needed. “He needs help to his room.”
No further direction was necessary. Two of the guardsmen placed down their weaponry to assist their lord, shouldering his weight and carrying him out of the room. I stepped out last, not wanting to impede.
Syaoran came running in that moment, dressed in his night clothes. “I heard a scream.” He panted, slowing his dash to a halt as we locked eyes. Then his gaze moved Lord Kwan. “Already?”
I was too tired to make inquiries, heading for the tea house as I typically did when Lord Kwan returned from elsewhere. Syaoran stopped me.
“Get some rest.” A look of approval shined, and his tone as warm as the hand on my shoulder.
“I can stay with him a bit longer,” I said. “He didn’t dismiss me.”
“I’ll dismiss you and fetch the tea,” said Syaoran, coaxing. “You need to sleep.”
It was kind of him to consider me, I thought. But I shook my head with a yawn. “I’ll stay with him. Like I swore to do.”
“Did you swear, or were you commanded?” teased Syaoran, still trying to persuade me into better judgement.
I simply smiled, unable to think of anything clever to say in return. I’d grown fond of him, and didn’t think of him as quite so strange anymore.